A Thanksgiving To Remember Or Forget
by babbitrulez
Summary: Just like the title says. A Thanksgiving for the Stoppables to remember. Or... may want to forget... Pandaroo! Zorpox! Bonding! Robotic, rampaging turkeys! Annoyances! Family! Friends! Enemies! Get it all here! Chapter 3: Turkey Day... NOW UP!
1. Return of Zorpox

**A Thanksgiving To Remember (Or Forget)**

**Chapter 1: Return of Zorpox**

* * *

--7 days before Thanksgiving...1400 hours(2:00 PM)--

She nestled into his loving embrace, nuzzling her face into his chest, surrounding herself with his smell. Inhaling deeply, she took it in and smiled. Then, quietly and carefully, she stretched a bit to plant a small kiss onto his cheek, causing the corners of his mouth to curl up. She slid back down into his arms, eyes closed, and fell asleep, thinking how lucky she was.

* * *

--7 days before Thanksgiving...1600 hours(4:00 PM)--

His eyes fluttered open. "K-KP?"

She stayed still except for her slow, steady breathing.

He sighed. "Sale at Club Bana--"

"I'm **up**!," she shouted, jerking up from her position on the couch. "Sale?! You mentioned a Club B sale?!"

"No. There's no sale..."

She looked dejected.

He sat up next to Kim. "...but... it **is** time to wake up..."

She gave him a stern look.

"What? I couldn't think of another way to get you up."

She smirked. "Then try **this** one on for size." She turned and pounced onto him like a wildcat and attacked his lips with hers for a few seconds, then sat up in the lap of the now-on-his-back-Ron Stoppable.

**--AN: catch up time!--**

Yes, Middleton High School Ron Stoppable. He had grown up quite a bit, bit still hadn't lost his boyish face. Instead of the 5 foot 6 he was his Senior year, he had a surprise growth spurt at about 18, and grew 10 inches. At the age of 29 **(AN: his age in this story)**, he stood at 6 foot 4. Golden-blonde hair grown out just a smidge longer than in high school; large, brown, oval-frame glasses (to this he always thought _'**Thanks**, Mom and Dad...'_) ; two indentical trios of ever-present brown freckles; and large, monkey-like ears; he was still the same man as he was in high school --just... a **bit** more mature...

This 29-year-old man had grown up since he was 17. But then again...

So had **Kim**...

She had **also** inherited bad eyesight at an older age. She found out at the age of 20, when trying to read the small print that was in her psychology textbook --Understanding the Human Brain: Volume XXXVIII by B. Rainier--, that she had gotten her Nana's vision problems. ('Just like me. And at the same age, too! How ironic. Kimberly, you and I have a lot more in common than you realize...,' Nana said when she heard the news.) Her oval-shaped royal blue wire glasses framed her darkening eyes. They had become more of a forest green color, rather than the emerald green they were before. She kept her reddish auburn hair at a length shorter than her high school length of 2 feet and 1 inch, but longer than her mother's length of 10 inches. Her hair was about 1 foot 6 inches. Ron was actually taller than Kim. Kim was about 5 foot 8, making her 6 inches shorter than Ron.

**AN: catch up time's over...**

"M-Mommy...?," a little girl mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she stumbled into the living room, clutching her worn Pandaroo.

Kim quickly got off of Ron as he sat up.

"Yes, Olivia?"

"Mommy...? I woke ahp, and... you wasn't theyw..." Olivia walked up slowly to her "Mommy".

Kim leaned down towards Olivia, arms outstretched. "Oh. Come here, sweetie." She took Olivia up in her arms, picking the little girl up.

As Kim set Olivia on her lap, Ron said, "Mommy and I were just having a little nap, too. Okay, kiddo?"

"Owkay..."

"You feeling better now, Via?," asked Kim.

"Mm-hm..."

"**Really**?" Ron tickled the soles of her feet. "Are you **really** sure about that?"

Olivia giggled in her high pitched voice, pushing Pandaroo in front of her father's hands.

"Oh, come on, kiddo. I was just ticklin' ya!"

"Yeah! Hee-hee. But now you gots ta tickuh Pandawoo!"

"Okay..." Ron proceeded to "tickuh Pandawoo".

"Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee...," Olivia giggled.

"You laugh **now**, Olivia Carina Stoppable! But... will you be laughing whenyour beloved **Pandaroo** is taken by...," Ron recited in his imitation evil British accent.

"Zowrpawx the **Conkwer**!"

"That's right! And there's **no one** here to stop me!," he said, standing up from his position on the living room couch, Pandaroo raised up above his head with one hand.

"**Yes** theyw is!," Olivia said as Kim jumped up from the couch.

Kimbo placed her arms akimbo.

"Who might **that** be, **Olivia**?!," Ron 'asked'.

"Mommy!"

"And **who's** your Mommy, Olivia?," Kim 'asked'.

"Kiwm Possibow!"

"**Correction**, Olivia Carina Stoppable?"

"Kiwm **Stoppabow**!"

"**That's** it, sweetie." Kim tapped the end of Olivia's nose, then turned to 'Zorpox'. "I think you know who'll win this, Zorpox. You might as well give up now."

"I think **not**, Kimberly Ann!"

"Guess we'll have to do this the hard way!" She front flipped over his head, and while doing so, plucked the stuffed animal out of his hand. Kim then pushed off his back when he turned around and leaned down to grab Pandaroo. She tumbled towards the couch, ending right in front of Olivia in a squat. "Here you go," she said, handing Pandaroo to her 4-year-old daughter.

"Kiwm Stoppabow saywves the day **again**!"

"That's right."

"And **don't** you forget it, kiddo," Ron said in his regular voice as he mussed up the reddish brown hair on top of his daughter's head.

After a few warm moments, Olivia gasped suddenly.

Her parents sprung into action. "What is it, Olivia?," they inquired simultaneously.

"Jinx," Kim whispered.

"**Tanksgiwing**! We fohgaht **Tanksgiwing**!"

"Don't worry, Via. Daddy and I didn't forget. Just..." She looked at Ron out the corner of her eye. "...as long it's not like **last** year..."

Ron smiled wistfully as he looked up at the ceiling, reminiscing. "Ah... Robotic, rampaging turkey. **Classic**..."

* * *

More to come, peoples! I hope you guys liked the first chapter!

-Ron: Face the wrath of Ron Stoppable! Rufus! And Sacky! X! X! X! V! I! I! I!  
-Rufus: Thirty-eight!

=b Big Bother

Yeah. Got 'Volume XXXVIII' from that ep... And 'B. Rainier'? Really bad pun. I mean... **really** bad... And to answer your question, 'yes, your eyes can get darker as you get older'. It happened to my mom... Kim's old 'Pandawoo' makes the scene again... Zorpox returns...! What did you think of the 'fight'/'family bonding' scene? I'll accept both flames and approvals... I'm sorry, but I absolutely **had** to put that opening scene in there...

-my little brother: babbitr--

Oh, wait. And don't ask where 'robotic, rampaging turkeys' came from. It popped into my head during French class.

-my little brother: ...

Alright. You can do it now.

-my little brother: babbitrulez, out!


	2. Planning

**A Thanksgiving To Remember (Or Forget)**

**Chapter 2: Planning...**

* * *

--5 days before Thanksgiving...0600 hours(6:00 AM)--

She crept like a jungle cat through the darkened pathway. Crawling up to the two sleeping forms, she stayed quiet so that her breathing could not be heard over the soft creaks of the bed's slight contractions. Small flickers of light flashed throughout the clearing. _Fireflies?_ She reared up over the bed, a chainsaw blaring. She slowly leaned closer to the foot of the bed...

**AND POUNCED!**

"AAAAAH!"

"Mommy!"

"Mmfive more... -yawn- mmminutes, Ma..."

"Daddy?"

Kim sat straight up on her side of the bed and looked at her daughter.

Olivia, legs tucked under her body and hand resting on knees, smiled innocently at her mother.

Ron continued with his rumbling snores, hands situated under his head.

"Ron. Wake **up**," Kim said, poking him slightly in the ribs.

"Mm**nooo**...," he groaned, turning over to face Kim's **(AN: ... um... how can i say this to be discrete...? ... oh! i got it!) **backside.

Kim sighed. "What is it, Olivia?," she asked, turning her daughter around to face the muted tv and pulling her backwards into her mother's hold. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. "It's six o'clock in the morning. The **sun's** not even up yet."

Olivia looked up at her mommy. "Mommy...? We need to get ready for **Tanksgiwing**!"

"Don't** worry**, sweetie. We'll get rea-- Oh!" Kim looked behind her at the spot of surprise.

There was Ron --still sleeping, mind you-- head squished up against her... you know... 'backside', hand grabbing it, big grin on his face.

"**Ronald Stoppable**!," she shouted.

He jerked up from his position. "**Huh?!** Who?! What?! **Where?!** How?! **Why?!**," he screamed, head swiveling every which way.

"Nothing," Kim said with an even tone. "It's gone now." She turned back to Olivia. "So, as I was saying--"

"Phew. Good. 'Cause I was having this **dream**, where me and you were trapped on this **uncharted island** after a mission gone south, and I had to cheer you up because you were down, so I grabbed your-- I did that in **real life**, didn't I?"

"... **Yeah**. You **did**."

"Ah-heh. Yeah..." He began rubbing the back of his neck. "You **see**... **About** that... I **just**... I was... It was a... You were... And the yelling... And... I didn't...," he sputtered. "... I'm sorry," he said, finally getting an actual sentence out. It may have been short, but a sentence is a sentence.

"Whatever. Just... Never again in front of **Olivia**, okay?"

"Alright. Wait, **'Olivia'**?!"

"Hi, Daddy," she said, waving and smiling sweetly at him.

"Heh. Hi... kiddo...," he replied, wiggling his fingers in a nervous wave.

"So, Via. Mommy and Daddy were going to plan today what we're going to eat this Thanksgiving."

"Okay."

"Yeah. Uh-huh. Two more hours. **Then** we'll plan," Ron said, laying back down and pulling the covers up over his head.

Kim and Olivia looked at the lump under the covers, then back at each other, and giggled.

* * *

--5 days before Thanksgiving...0800 hours(8:00 AM)--

"**Daddy**! Wake **uh**!"

"Hm? Mmwha?"

"Da-**deeee**! Two houwohs!"

"Mmwhat time is it?"

"Eight o'**cwock**, Daddy! Wake **uh**!"

"Alright. **Alright**. I'm getting up. Just... stop **shaking** me."

"Okay."

"Thanks."

Ron sat up and rubbed his eyes. He jumped out of bed, grabbed up Olivia, and ran down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Olivia giggled the whole way.

"Hey, Ron," Kim said without looking up from the paper she had on the counter.

"'Sup, Kim?," Ron said, setting down his daughter.

"Not much." She turned to Ron, looking him up and down. "Nice boxers."

"I'd rather you didn't comment on my boxers..."

"Pink boxohs!"

Ron smacked the heel of his palm against his forehead as he grimaced.

Kim and Olivia giggled.

"Ron, I've decided on a **southern** theme."

"For **what**?"

"Thanksgiving...?," Kim said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"O-**kaaaay**... Didn't know that Thanksgiving **had** more of a theme than Pilgrims and Native Americans..."

"Well, it **does**. This year's going to be a southern theme."

"Whatever you say. As long as we're eating."

Kim sighed, a smile on her face. "Don't worry. There'll be food. Just... **southern** food."

"Which would be...?"

Kim began reading off her sheet of paper. "Stuffed green peppers, cornbread, dirty rice--"

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"I don' **wahnt** dohty wice..."

"Via, dirty rice isn't **really** dirty."

"Den why do dey **caw** it dat?"

"Because you mix in ground beef, which looks like sort of like dirt."

"Oh. Okay!"

"So. Dirty rice, gumbo, sweet potato casserole, croissants--"

"Kim, aren't croissants, y'know, **French**?"

"Well, I got the menu from **Monique**, okay? Her family's from Louisiana."

"And... that's **relevant**... how?"

"Louisiana was highly affected by the French while under their control. That's why there's a French Quarter."

"Wait. So a **whole quarter** of the state is dedicated to **France**?"

"No... There's a few streets reminding you of French **culture**."

"You're not being sarcastic?"

Kim sighed. "**No**...!"

"Alright."

Kim sighed. "As I was saying, crossiants, jambalaya, green bean casserole, mushroom gravy, cranberry sauce, and of course, the **turkey**. Any questions?"

"**Uh**-uh," Olivia said.

Ron just shook his head 'no'.

"Good. ... **Now** we just have to go **shopping**."

"Awwwww...!," a blonde man and his auburn-haired daughter groaned simultaneously.

* * *

Well. That ends **that** chapter. Don't worry. I'm working on the next chapter **right** **now**! Chapter 3: Turkey Day. Comin' right up! Should be out by noon tomorrow. 'Kay? 'Kay. Did I do the disclaimer yet? I'm not sure... Ah well. Just to be safe... A-hem-heh-heh-hem.

I do **not** own the characters of Kim Possible. They belong to Disney. (darnskys...)

Okay. Now that **that's** over with...

Be on the lookout for chapter three of A Thanksgiving to Remember Or Forget! **Hooray**! babbitrulez, out!


	3. Turkey Day

**A Thanksgiving To Remember (Or Forget)**

**Chapter 3: Turkey Day**

* * *

--Thanksgiving...0203 hours(2:03 AM)--

He stuck the key in the ignition and sped off. They were on his tail. He looked in the rear view mirror. _Yup. Still there..._ He turned right, swerved left. They were **still** there. ... There it was! Turn there, and he was home free.

Ron Stoppable turned into his driveway, Possible, Stoppable, and Lipsky families pulling in right after him. Parking, he turned off his car and got out, closing the door. "Everybody okay?"

James and a groggy Anne Possible were the first ones to exit their vehicle. The two tired, 22-year-old-'tweebs' got out after them.

George and a sleepy Laura Stoppable slid out of their minivan. Laura opened one of the backseat passenger doors. A 12-year-old Hana (who wasn't tired at all) jumped out of the doorway and ran up to her brother.

"Ron-onii!"

Ron caught her in his arms when she leapt towards him. "What's goin' **on**, Han?"

"Not **much**."

"Yori been visiting you? Helpin' you **practice**?"

"She's been busy with baby **Taki-chan**, so **Hiro-kun**'s been coming over!"

"Cool!"

"**Isn't** it? Hey. Could I practice with **you**, sometime?"

"Uh... **Maybe**..."

"Oh. Okay! ... Could you... y'know... put me down now...? I'm **12** years old. I can **walk**..."

"Oh. Right." He set down his little sister. "Sorry, Han."

"S'okay!"

"C'mon, Sally. It's okay. You can get out of the car," Sheila Lipsky said.

"Yes, sweetie. The Stoppables and the Possibles **aren't** going to hurt you," Drew Lipsky said.

A small, pale head with long, black hair peeked out the door of the black van and examined her surroundings warily.

**AN: would you like to know **why** their minivan is black?**

"She-**go**, the black van is **gross**...," Drakken whined. "Why can't we take the **blue** one?"

"Blue is **your** color."

"**Green**, then."

"As much as I'd like that, I **still** have to say the **black** one."

"Why?"

"It doesn't show dirt."

"**What**?"

"It doesn't show **dirt**."

"Well, I--" A man with a large, wooden bat exiting the building they stood outside caught his eye.

"I'ma **gettin'** that **muhney** from yoo!," the guy shouted.

"**Sold**," Drakken said, pointing to the black van.

**AN: you like? mini story inside a story. back to the **original** fic, now!**

"D-do I **have** to come out, Mom?"

"Yes. You will get out of the van or so help me, I will use my plasma and blast your little butt!"

"You know you're not really gonna do that," a young male voice said from the backseat of the van.

"Sally Lipsky, get **out** of this car!"

"Yes, Mom..." Sally slowly made her way out and onto the pavement.

"And **you**, Ben."

"What?"

"**Out**."

"Whatever...," Ben grumbled, getting out of the family vehicle.

Sheila watched the 10-year-old get out and walk up to the front door. She rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Sally. Let's go...," she said, putting a hand on her 4-year-old daughter's shoulder.

"C'mon, guys. I know it's early, but we gotta get inside. KP's waitin' for us."

"You still call her that?"

"Yup. Just like old times, Mr. Dr. P."

"How many times do I have to **tell** you? Call me 'Dad'."

"... Y'know what? I'm... just gonna go... inside... now..."

"Yes. We should **all** go inside," Drew concurred.

Ron headed the group. At the door, he saw Ben. "Hey, Ben. How's it goin'?," he said, unlocking the door with his key.

"Mm," he grunted, just enough to show that he heard, but not enough to show that he cared.

"O-**kaaay**..." Ron opened the door and was tackled to the ground by his pajama-clad wife.

Kim pressed her lips to his for a few seconds, then looked down at her husband, a big smile spread across her face.

"Wow, Princess. Still got a lotta fire, huh?"

Kim grimaced.

Ron wrapped his arms around her back, and jumped up, shifting his wife so that he was carrying her in the threshold position. He walked through the door and tossed her onto the couch --a smile on his face-- next to his lightly snoring daughter.

The Possibles entered the house first. James and Anne walked up to the couch, as Jim and Tim carried the Possible luggage into the guest room located in the basement.

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Kimmie."

"Kimmie-cub."

Anne stroked Olivia's hair.

"**That's** my granddaughter," James whispered.

Olivia snort-snored.

"That's **your** granddaughter, George," James said to Ron's father.

"Gee, **thanks**," George answered sarcastically as he brought in the Stoppable luggage.

Ron saw his father struggling and the suitcases wobbling. "Lemme help you, Dad."

"Thanks, Ronald."

George, Ron, and Laura went down the stairs and into the den.

Hana ran into the house. She front flipped into the living room --holding her pillow and sleeping bag-- and sprawled out on the floor, falling asleep immediately.

"Well. **She** just conked out...," Kim said, looking down at the immobile Asian girl on her floor. Kim left the room in exchange for her own bedroom.

"Let's **go**, Drew!"

"Whoo! **Coming**, Sheila! Ah! These bags are heavier than I **thought**!," Drew wheezed as he brought in the Lipsky luggage.

"Just come on. You've got all that **muscle**; put it to good use!"

"Drew has **muscle**?! Well, not in our **college** days. He--"

"I **know**. I was **there**," Sheila said.

"What?"

"We'll talk about it at dinner. Right now, I'm going to go wash up, then get some rest." She started off to the bathroom. "Oh. And if I come back in this room, and me, my family, and two young Stoppables aren't the only ones in here... Let's just say... some grandparent tushies wil be grandly burnt." Sheila walked into the bathroom and shut the door. The sound of running water was soon heard.

"I'm gone."

"Me **too**," James agreed.

"'Night, everybody!"

"Yeah, what **she** said."

Anne and James made their way to the guest room on the main level.

Ron made his way up two flights of stairs to his bedroom and fell asleep during his flop onto the bed.

Kim smiled at him. "'Night, Ron."

"Mmnight...," he mumbled in his sleep.

Kim could only hope that he wouldn't dream about a deserted island that night.

Sheila, Drew, Sarah, and Ben all settled down and snoozed in the living room.

Jim and Tim fell asleep on the basement guest room floor, while James and Anne slept on the bed.

George and Laura drifted off together, laying on the sofa in the den.

* * *

--Thanksgiving...0527 hours(5:27 AM)--

"Morning, Mom! What's up?"

Laura yawned. "I was **sleeping**..."

"Oh. Well you're awake **now**, so come **on**!"

"Come **where**?"

"To see all the **food**!" Hana Stoppable tugged on her adopted mother's arm.

"**Alright**! Alright. I'm coming. Just let me get the sleep out of my eyes. I'll be right there."

"Okay!" With that, Hana ran up the stairs and tumbled into the kitchen to wait for her mom.

Laura watched her the whole way, then quickly put her head back on the arm of the sofa, falling asleep almost instantly.

After a few minutes, Hana ran back into the room and pulled on her mom's arm. "Mo-**om**!"

"I'm... --yawn-- c-coming..."

"**No** you're not!" Hana picked up her mother and slung her over her shoulder. "Let's **go**!"

"--yawn-- Whatever you say..." Laura fell asleep while on her daughter's shoulder.

Hana sighed as she rolled her eyes and shook her head. She ran up the stairs, mom on shoulder.

* * *

--Thanksgiving...0527 hours(5:27 AM)--

"**Daddy**! Wake **uh**!"

Ron yawned. "Kiddo, I was kinda **sleeping**..."

"But yohw **awake** now, so come **on**!"

"Come **where**?"

"To see aw duh **foowd**!" Olivia Stoppable tugged on her father's arm.

"**Alright**! Alright. I'm coming. Just... Just let me get the sleep out of my eyes... --yawn-- I'll be right there."

"Okay!" With that, Olivia ran down the stairs and into the kitchen to wait for her dad.

Ron watched her until she left the room, then quickly put his head back on his pillow, falling asleep almost instantly.

After a few minutes, Olivia ran back into the room and pulled on her dad's arm. "Da-**deeee**!"

"I'm... --yawn-- mmcoming..."

"No yohw **not**!" Olivia pulled her father out of his bed and onto the floor. "Let's **go**!"

"--yawn-- Whatever you say..." Ron fell asleep while being dragged by his 4-year-old daughter.

Olivia sighed as she rolled her eyes and shook her head. She ran down the stairs, dad sliding behind her.

* * *

--Thanksgiving...0532 hours(5:32 AM)--

Hana carried her mother into the kitchen.

Olivia dragged her father into the kitchen.

Not paying attention, Olivia bumped into her aunt. "Sowwy."

"S'okay. I know you didn't mean to." Hana looked at the man sleeping on the floor behind her neice. "You got onii-chan behind you?"

"Who?"

"Oh. Sorry. I mean, you got big brother behind you?"

"What?"

"**My** brother. Is **your** dad. So what I'm **saying** is: You got your dad behind you?"

"Oh! Yeah!" Olivia looked at the figure on Hana's shoulder. "Gwamma?"

"Yup! I brought her up here myself!"

"Coow!"

Hana and Olivia talked --while Ron and Laura slept on the floor-- for about an hour and a half.

* * *

--Thanksgiving...0721 hours(7:21 AM)

"G'morning, everybody," Kim said, walking down the stairs as she stretched her arms.

"Morning, Kimmie," Anne said.

"Morning, Kimmie-cub."

"Morning, **Cupcake**," Sheila said.

"**Sheila**...," Kim mock-growled.

"Don't get steamed so early in the morning, Kim. You might get **wrinkles**."

"Oh, like **yours**?"

Sheila gasped, then smirked. "Nicely **played**, Princess. I've taught you well."

"Morning, Kimmie," Laura said.

"Morning, Kimberly," George said.

"Morning...," Sally whispered.

"Mm," Ben grunted.

"--yawn-- Where's Ron? I didn't see him when I woke up."

"I think he's still in the kitchen," Laura answered.

"The kitchen? Why would he be in **there**?"

"I don't know, Kim. I woke up, and there he was, sleeping, while Hana and Olivia talked."

It was quiet in the room for a moment as everyone mulled that last sentence over. Then everyone's (excluding Ben's) eyes got as big as dinner plates.

"I'll go in! Somebody cover me," Kim yelled, running into the kitchen.

"**I** gotcha,"Sheila shouted, going in after her.

When they got into they were shocked at size the mess --or, lack thereof...

Hana and Olivia were sitting there, watching Ron demonstate some of his bon-diggety dance moves. The two clapped after he finished one, then he would announce the name of the next one.

"Alright. This one's called the Snorkel." Ron did the Snorkel.

"Yay!"

"**Awesome**!"

"And the Funky Egyptian..." Ron did the Funky Egyptian.

"Go **Daddy**!"

"Nice one, bro!"

"And--"

"The husband who's showing off to his little sister and his **daughter**?"

"KP! What a booyah-worthy surprise! Sit down and watch the **show**!"

"And **me**?"

"You **too**, Sheila!"

Kim and Sheila sat down.

"Okay. Now **this** is the Electric Porpoise." Ron went into a series of movements and dolphin noises.

"Go, Onii-chan!"

"Yay, Daddy!"

"**Work** it, honey!"

"I **have** to say. Pretty nice moves, there, Pops."

"Hey. I **may** have been clumsy sneaking into a lair, but **not** on the dance floor, baby! **Check** it out!" Ron proceeded to do the robot, shifting his movement to the walk it out, and spinning into the moonwalk.

The other four occupants of the room clapped and cheered him on wildly.

"**What** is going **on** in h--?" James looked at the scene before him. "Anne," he called, not taking his eyes off the dance machine in the kitchen.

"What **is** it, dear?"

"Uh... You'd better come see for **yourself**."

Anne popped her head in. "Alright. I'm here. What did you want me to s-- **Wow**..."

"I **know**, right? Ronald has... got it goin' **on**!"

"What are you two **babbling** abou-- **Oh**," Drew said, sticking his head into the doorway.

Pretty soon, James, Anne, Drew, George, Laura, and Sally were looking into the kitchen with awe.

Ben watched, looking as bored as ever. He yawned dramatically. "I'm gonna see what's on tv...," he said, before plopping down on the couch, grabbing the remote, and turning on Animal Planet's The Most Extreme.

* * *

--Thanksgiving...0837 hours(8:37 AM)--

After more than an hour of dancing, Ron began to feel tired. Beads of sweat had formed all over his body, and he was breathing heavily. "Okay. ... I... may **never** do that... **again**. ... I mean... I **love** to dance... and I'm **good** at it, too... but **that**... was a **little** too long...," he gasped.

Cheers and applause shook the building.

"Ron, I don't think I've ever **seen** that before," James said, amazed. "That was **amazing**! How did you **do** that?!"

"I'm... a little too tired... to answer questions. ... KP...?"

"Please **note**, he **is** a **bon**-**diggety** dancah, Dad! A-**thank** you!," Kim said, giggling as she got up from her spot on the floor. "So. **Who** wants gumbo!"

Many 'uh's spread throughout the room.

"What exactly **is** ... 'gumbo', Kimmie?," Anne asked.

"It's--"

"It's a Southern dish with broth, sausage, chicken, shrimp, and a large array of spices and seasonings."

Everyone turned to Ben, who was looking back at them over the back of the couch with half-lidded eyes.

"What? A guy can't like to cook?"

"I... like to cook...," Ron wheezed.

"Oh, **great**. The **buffoon** and I share a trait. **Whoop**-dee-doo."

"Uh...," Ron trailed.

"**Sheila**! **Control** your **child**! He should **not** be calling my husband a **buffoon**!"

"Look, he must've found some of our old tapes, and--"

"Wait, you have **tapes**? Of **what**?"

"Our take-over-the-world attempts."

"Yup. And Dad calls **you** a **'buffoon'** at least **once** in **every** one of them," Ben said, pointing to Ron.

"Ben, that was a **long** time ago. I wasn't in my right mind then. It's **not** a nice thing to call someone," Drew said. "Even if you **don't** remember their name...," he mumbled.

Ben was silent.

"Ben?"

"Mm?"

"**Apologize** to Mr. Stoppable," Drew said.

"I'm not a **baby**! I'm **10 years old**! I **know** when to say sorry! I **know** I should be! I just didn't **choose** to!"

Everyone was shocked at Ben's sudden outburst.

"**I'm leaving**!" Ben got up and stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

Sheila hung her head and rubbed her temples with her thumb, index finger, and middle finger as she grimaced.

"Is he gonna be okay, Mommy?," Sally asked.

Sheila looked down at the concerned 4-year-old girl tugging on her mother's pajama pants. "I... I don't **know**, sweetie..."

Sally ran towards the door.

"**Sally**!," Sheila shouted.

"I'm goin' out to find hiwm, Mommy," Sally said before closing the door behind her.

* * *

Well. This just sorta... y'know... flowed out of my hands... I guess it's gonna flow over a bit... Oops... My bad! And... yes, I know it's late. But at least it's up, alright? Longest chapter in this story so far. Lots of things happening! It went kinda quick though, didn't it? Hmm... Well... babbitrulez, out!


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